You are Jorgin Thesna, faithful disciple of the blessed prophet Thoth, and zealous leader of the Frateris De Veritas militia. Only a month ago, you were a homeless, starving wretch. Now, only one month after swearing eternal devotion to Tzeentch, you've become a valued and important follower of the Truth, and you've never been happier. The blessed prophet Thoth has sent you and your fellow Truth Seekers on a crusade to exterminate the Pipe Snakes hive gang, who have committed an unforgivable blasphemy against Tzeentch by slaying one of his devoted.

The Yhetti Klan gang also has reason to wage war against the Pipe Snakes, several of their men have been killed for drug running on Pipe Snake territory. The second in command of the Yhetti Klan, and five of their men have been enlightened by the Holy Truth, and soon, more will realize their place in the Grand Scheme of Tzeentch, so says the blessed prophet Thoth. The Yhetti Klan agreed to ally with the Frateris De Veritas against the Pipe Snakes, and a Yhetti spy has informed your brethren and the Yhettis of a Pipe Snake meeting that would be taking place tonight. All of the Pipe Snake gang's leaders and their most capable men have gathered inside of a seemingly abandoned warehouse in the slums.

Little do they know, the bulk of the Yhetti Klan and the entire Cult Militant wait outside in secret. The Yhetti Klan number just over forty men in all, seasoned killers and trained fighters to the last man, each of them armed to the teeth. The Veritas militia, while not as experienced as the Yhetti Klan, is filled with a fanatical and fervent rage, and each would gladly die if it would further the will of Tzeentch, blessed be his holy name.

The battle has commenced, the Yhetti Klan have gunned down the Pipe Snake sentries, and are breaking in the warehouse's locked door. Unfortunately, the Yhetti spy couldn't get his hands on a map of the warehouse, so you're all going in blind. There might be some side entrances the militia could sneak through, or maybe not. Either way, the Yhettis are about to break the door off its hinges, and you've got decisions to make.

> How exactly should the veritas militia go about purging the blasphemers in the name of Tzeentch? (write-in)

>>855729Stealing this idea>>854408Send a third of the men onto the roof of the warhouse, perhaps there are windows looking down into the warehouse or perhaps there are other ways to flank the Pipe Snakes from above... One must think in three dimensions rather than the lowly two, especially in hive warfare.

Another third can go around the back, whilst the last third can join the Yhetti Klan assaulting the front...

You should join those going on the roof, the Veritas Militia shall make sure there are no survivors of the Pipe snakes...

So Jorgin's plan is to split the militia into three groups, have one scout for another entrance, have another reinforce the Yhetti Klan, and have the last group, led by Jorgin, attempt to flank the Pipe Snakes from above? OK, I'll update immediately.

You pause for a moment, deep in concentration, before a brilliant stratagem dawns on you. You'll flank the Pipe Snakes, not just from all sides, but from above them as well! There's no way that devising this ingenious plan could've been your own doing, no, Tzeentch must have blessed you. Praise his infinite wisdom, for without his Truth, you would be deceived and lost!

You divide your forces into three equal parts, and before initiating the attack, you are inspired to speak. You are sure to remain quiet to preserve the element of surprise, and your whispers fill the hearts and minds of those listening. "My fellow Truth Seekers, the time to prove our devotion to Tzeentch has come. These gangers have committed an unthinkable atrocity against the Lord of Change, and they shall be destroyed for their deeds. Tonight, we bring the wrath of heaven upon them! Such is the will of Tzeentch! Such is the Truth! Such is PURE!"

The militia echoes your recital in a ragged, booming, yet silent cry, "SUCH IS PURE!" Two groups of ten break off from the militia and run to the warehouse, though they are silent, their eyes burn with righteous fury. The Yhetti Klan hasn't yet breached the front door, the Pipe Snakes must've barricaded it. No matter, their walls shall crumble.

You, and nine of the finest veritas militia run, not to the warehouse, but to the dilapidated apartment bordering it. Your eyes search frantically, before you find what you're looking for: a fire escape. The ten of you climb up the ladder in rapid succession, before reaching a space one story above the warehouse, and, surely enough, a skylight peers into the warehouse's interior. A militiaman mutters, "All praise be to Tzeentch!"

((For all combat rolls following this statement, the first roll will be for the allies of the Frateris De Veritas, and the second roll will be for their foes. The Yhetti Klan and cult militia get a +1 here because of the veritas superior training. The Pipe Snakes get a +4 here because they're defending a fortified position.))

[13+1=15] VS [14+4=18]

The Yhetti Klan finally rip the door from its hinges, ferociously swarming into the building. Only to be cut to pieces by a bright, vivid red beam. An instant later, a *FOOOM* noise reaches you. Barely half of the Yhetti Klan remain standing, though the cult militia was spared, being in the back when the beam struck. You hear the cries of the Yhetti Klan,

"MOTHERFUCKERS GOT A FUCKIN' LASCANNON!"

"SHIT, WE'RE FUCKED!"

"SHIT, PULL YOUR SHIT TOGETHER MAN!"

The cult militia doesn't waste time shouting expletives, instead, they run into the warehouse screaming the praises of Tzeentch, guns blazing. Inspired by the cult militia's resolve, the Yhetti Klan runs in after them. A staccato of obscenities, religious howling, and gunfire booms out from the warehouse.

You hear a loud blast come from around the back of the warhouse, and more gunfire. You recall that a few of the Yhetti Klan opted to follow the flanking force, one of them must've carried explosives. Truly, the Architect of Fate accounts for everything.

[7] VS [2]

Never mind the others, they'll find their own way. You jump from the fire escape and land on the warehouse at a crude roll, you're somewhat battered and bruised but no bones are broken and you can still fight. You hear thuds behind you, and see the rest of the militiamen standing, a few gingerly nursing bruises. You peer into the skylight, a haze of smoke obscures much of the warehouse, but you can see enough to know that the fight is vicious and brutal.

The fight is vicious, but you don't care. If you die, and it furthers the Truth, you'll have fulfilled your part in Tzeentch's Plan, and you can ask for no higher honor. Several of the militiamen prepare to shatter the warhouse skylight, but you hold your hand in a fist. "STOP. We're not ape-brained Khornates. We're going to plan, and think this through. You see that Lascannon? The fight is roughly equal, if we can capture the Lascannon, that will turn the tide in our favor. Denis, Andrei, you'll flank the left side, Huybrecht, Merigo, you'll flank the right. I and the rest will scatter, and charge the Cannoneer. Lascannon's fire only slowly, if we can overwhelm him from all sides, we'll be sure to succeed. Understood?"

The men nod, and ready their weapons. There is no need for further words of prayer, as each man here has prayed a hundred times and knows that the Weaver of Destinies watches over them. You take your Lasgun, and fire into the skylight. It's almost five inches thick, and takes three shots to destabilize it. You jump into the smoke.

[16+2=18] VS [12]((+2 due to Jorgin's superior training.))

As you land, you roll to avoid suffering a broken foot. Three gangers are fighting ahead of you, two are wielding machetes, and one is equipped with a lead pipe. The club wielder fights well, but he is cut down by the ferocious swordsmen. They turn toward you, and you realize that these are Pipe Snakes. You raise your Lasgun in what seems like slow motion, firing once, twice, thrice, into the chest of one assailant who crumbles as his heart is torn asunder. As he drops his blade, you duck under a violent slash, causing it to just miss your throat, and snap your Lasgun forward, sweeping the barrel into his ankles, tripping the heretic. He falls into the concrete face first, and you stand, turn, and vaporize the back of his skull. All of this happens in under five seconds.

"ALL PRAISE BE TO TZEENTCH!" Roaring oaths to your god, you charge into the smoke, towards the brunt of the fighting.

[18+2=20] VS [12]

A ganger draws his snub pistol to bear, only to drop it as his wrist is ruined by the blast of your Lasgun, and he has no time to scream, as his face is punctured by your sacred light. You hear footfalls behind you, and hear the sounds of righteous praise. Your comrades have arrived, you split into three groups, two of two, and one of six, and charge the noise of combat.

One of your brethren is blown almost in half by a shotgun's blast, and he scarcely has time to blink, an instant later, another veritas avenges his demise. This is chaotic, it's mad, knowing each instant could be your last, it's insane, and you love it. You blast one ganger four times, ignoring a petty rifle shot that only manages to scrape your shoulder. This blood, it is shed because Tzeentch wills it! You are invincible, for you are a disciple of the Truth, and no blade shall fell you, no shot shall slay you, except as your Lord wills it, for your mission is Holy.

You and your fellows veritas run deeper into the symphony of discord, and there you see him. An unnaturally large, cloaked man, what skin you can see is covered in viscous scales, his eyes are obscured by a visor, in his hands lies an enormous construct, it has an over-sized barrel, and numerous wires going back to attach themselves to a cumbersome backpack. It must weigh at least two hundred pounds, and you realize that he must've overcharged it to produce a beam capable of producing such a beam. The Lascannon is within your sight.

The hulking mutant hefts his Lascannon, and fires once more, ripping a Yhetti warrior in half. He stomps the Yhetti's head with impunity, and begins to recharge the Lascannon. Three men move to flank him, one cultist wielding his assault rife, and two Yhettis armed with a shotgun, and stub pistol, respectively. The cannoneer turns, swooping the massive handheld cannon, breaking a Yhetti's neck, he fires simultaneously, severing the other Yhetti's arm. The cultist moves to bayonet him, and the mutant ignores the stab wound as if it were nothing, sweeping his thick arms, knocking down the cultist with ease. As he stomps your fellow devotees chest in, you are filled with a burning rage. This mutant, he was gifted by the sacred Truth at birth, yet he uses it to slay the followers of the Truth? He is not only a killer, but also a traitor!

You aren't Thoth, you're the leader of the cultist militia sent to help the Yhetti Klan fight the Pipe Snakes. You don't have any psychic powers, apart from an unnatural, fanatical devotion to a mysterious entity you only discovered a month ago.

Yes, but Thoth is a former Blood Raven, and a Space Marine who's had centuries of mental training, and it took him weeks to develop his beginning powers. Jorgin, on the other hand, is a former regular homeless person. There is nothing stopping every one of the veritas from gaining sorcerous powers, but for most, who don't have any psychic potential, it could take years of training.

"HAIL THE LORD OF CHANGE!" Bellowing prayers to the Holy Truth, you unleash your Lasgun's full might on the mutant heretic.

[20] VS [13]

Your bolts fly true, and shred the blasphemer's ankles, as he falls to his knees, you slam the butt of the Lasgun against the back of his head, knocking him to the ground. You then take your Lasgun, and pressing it against the mutant's skull, unload a full dozen blasts at point blank range. The mutant's skull is no more than a bloody, charred smear on the concrete, and his Lascannon is now yours. Seven of your fellow militia fought their way to the mutant, and arrived to see you standing over its corpse.

You've acquired the Lascannon, but it's far to heavy for you to lift. It appears to have been crafted with this mutant's physique in mind.

[20] VS [18]

You ignore it for now, and turn your attentions to the battle. Almost forty minutes later, a good third of the enemy have been vanquished, and perhaps a fifth of the remaining Yhetti Klan have been slain or mortally wounded. Under half of the veritas militia remains, though surrounding the militant dead are twice their number in Pipe Snake corpses, and you know that they fought well, and died well.

> The battle isn't over yet. Still, many of the heretics walk, and this cannot be allowed to stand! (write-in)

You shout an order to your remaining men, "Strages, Jacta, emplace the Lascannon, and unleash the Truth upon the heretics! All others, to me! Capture the heretic, for later we may yet enlighten them!" Two of the larger cultists struggle to lift the Lascannon, and they frantically set it into place behind a wooden box. Reddish white pulses of destruction soon emanate from it, and several heretics are slain. While Strages and Jacta ready the Lascannon, you and perhaps twelve others charge to flank the blasphemers from the left, while the remaining Yhetti Klan charge their front and the right.

[16+2=18] VS [12]((+2 because the Lascannon is forcing the Pipe Snakes to remain behind cover, and scattered.))

You shout prayers to Tzeentch, and bellow in unintelligible ecstasy as the glorious noise of Truth envelops you all, your men fight harder and stronger than they ever have, the heretics are filled with doubt, and even the Yhetti Klan is filled with Holy rage. The next half hour is a blur, you remember nothing but a haze of thick smoke, brutal grappling, and shouted prayers from all sides.

When the battle is done, you fight yet still, firing your Lasgun into the smoke until brother Jacta grabs your shoulder, "Jorgin, we've done it, the enemy is routed!" You stop firing, and look around you. The sight is beautiful.

Almost a hundred bloody bodies lie dismembered, burned, and riddled with holes. Each of them died in the service of the Truth, or was slain for their sacrilege against the Truth. You have killed before, but never for so wonderful a cause. The knowledge that you helped orchestrate this, that you, you personally, helped Almighty Tzeentch further the Truth of Chaos, fills you with rapturous joy.

You drop your Lasgun, and fall to your knees, weeping tears of gratitude, that Tzeentch saw fit to spare you, and keep you to further his plan, is a more powerful feeling than any you've ever felt. That upon death, you will become one with the Truth, it is simply indescribable. You cry out, and fall into a fetal position, babbling prayers of thanks and praise to the Lord of Change, before falling into a deep, deep sleep.

OK, what does everyone think of the quest so far? The mechanics, the writing quality, the pacing, everything. Tell me your opinions, where you want this quest to go, be completely honest. I want to know how I can improve as a Quest Master.

I like it a lot, unfortunately I wasn't able to participate as much as I'd like. I like the view shift a lot actually instead of just being a Spess Mahrine able to clear out this whole gang the switch gave more stakes to the fight and a good perspective from the POV of a cult member.

When it comes to quests like this, which honestly has a very CIV feel to it, I like micro managing more than broad sweeps, gives more control and (especially for a Tzeentch cult) it's fun to see plans slowly come together. But that might be a minority vote

So this Tzeentchian cult is a strict, militaristic theocratic meritocracy whose theology is based around the concept of the literal Chaos God of lies being Truth incarnate? Interesting, very very interesting.

Giving Jorgin mutated limbs is something that is indeed possible, though Thoth is not yet advanced enough in his sorcerous power to do it, and fine-tuned precision will take much longer. As for his rapidly advanced combat skill, he was throwing everything he had into it, and he was being trained by one of the galaxy's most elite class of warriors.

Oh I forgot to mention, perhaps the Cult should also start becoming a little more organized and assault the hive on the front of....

>Politics

Despite our successes we are still quite vulnerable, and with the boost in currency and weapons at our disposal we should move to cement ourselves into the day to day function of the hive....

Finding /purchasing a vox caster or multiple casters and having some cultists listening in to local upper hive transmissions/chatter might be good... Perhaps they might hear an opportunity that the Veritas can take advantage of as the months roll by, or hear early warning of a hive purge from the local Arbites coming down for a visit...

>>859158maybe try to start corrupting lower level members of the planet's ecclesiarch, get them to spread the Truth to the masses outside our soup kitchen, but on a much more effective scale. We must work in the ways of subtlety for now, politics and religion.

Thought that was the idea behind our recruit the rich scheme? Admittedly it hasn't been all that successful yet.

I still feel we're better off concentrating on the gangs for now, we're still small and there isn't too much attention on us yet so I think we can spend a bit more time consolidating and securing ourselves in the slums to begin with.

I just think that we would be better off gettting the Yhetti Clan and anyone else we can on our side first, especially because the slums are an ideal place to spread our message of hope and tentacle limbs.

>>859304>>859301Do you think us Slaneshi degenerates? No people in soup! No eating corpses, even prepared, like blood hazed Khornate boneheaded beserkers!

People as fertilizer on the other hand... Changing their corpses into new and different forms to make a functional hydroponic garden in the underhive.... Or would that count as something too Nurglethy?

You are Thoth Talibah, blessed prophet of Tzeentch, and you are quite pleased. The veritas militia performed admirably, and slew dozens of the heretical Pipe Snakes, purging them of their abhorrent taint. What's better, twenty three of the veritas militia were slain in combat, and their souls have ascended to become one with the Truth of Chaos! All praise be to Tzeentch, blessed schemer and changer of ways!

Only seven of the veritas returned from their crusade, a fact of immense significance. The Holy number of Tzeentch is seven, and after the first crusade of the Frateris De Veritas, seven return. Is this mere coincidence? No, Tzeentch planned this, and by his Holy guidance, you are strengthened.

The leader of the veritas militia, Jorgin Thesna, has more than proven his faith in combat with the vile blasphemers. By the power invested in you by the Architect of Fate, you have declared Jorgin Thesna, Supreme Arbitrator of the Faith. He shall render righteous judgement upon the heretic, and spread the Holy Truth to all the corners of the Materium, such is Tzeentch's will.

You talked with him for some time, and notice several things about him. His eyes and speech are inflamed with a fervent intensity, and every other sentence he takes takes a moment to praise Tzeentch, and utter the Creed of Truth. When he retells the story of the battle to you, his voice is filled with unquenchable hatred at the slightest mention of the Pipe Snakes, and he attributes each of his successes to Tzeentch, not humbly, but as undeniable fact.

After he recounts the tale, you are stricken with inspiration. You speak hurriedly, lest you forget, "Supreme Arbitrator Thesna!"

"Yes, Blessed Prophet of Tzeentch?" "The Great One has shown me an image!" "R-really!?! All praise be to Tzeentch, may none deny the Truth!" "Hail Tzeentch! Remember, how only seven of you returned?" "How could I forget, mighty one?" "Is seven not the Holy number of our Lord?" "AH! It is preordained, as all things are, but what could this sign possibly mean?" "Our Lord has sent us a message, and already, entities of Chaos have showed me the meaning!" "Don't keep me in suspense, spit it out!" "We are to divide our veterans of war into squads of seven!""Holy Tzeentch! That's brilliant! Poetic, yet practical! It's perfect!""As are all things of Tzeentch! But another, I feel another inspiration!""Blessed Lord of Change! Tell me!""Did you not attack the foe from three sides!?!""Yes, that we did!""It is a sign! A sign that we are to follow!""Follow threes? How so?""We are to always assault an enemy in three ways, or multiples of three, whether physical, psychological, or economical, and if possible have two more plans to back up the initial one!""Brilliant!""These words are not my own, they come to me from Tzeentch!""All praise be to Him!"

At that, both of you fall to your knees and babble prayers of thanks.(cont.)

1st. >Interrogate the prisoners; See if the pipe snakes have a home base of operations and who their allies were.

2nd. >Set up the soup kitchen or perhaps a refuge/ food pantry for the misfits and downtrodden to be fed, though ration things out less we are swamped with too many at once... We don't want a riot on our hands

>>859890Their old home base might make an excellent secondary location for our cult... And knowing who the pipe snakes were allied against will give us a heads up on who might be a little less than happy about their untimely end...

As you ponder, a three-fold plan comes to mind. First, you'll interrogate the heretics, and discover the location of the Pipe Snake headquarters. Then, you'll task several of your more charitable followers with opening a soup kitchen, to nourish the unfortunate with both the Truth, and nutrition for their mortal forms. Finally, you'll trade half of the stockpile of narcotics with the Yhetti Klan, in exchange for Thrones, and checkup on the progress of their enlightenment.

Perhaps the old Pipe Snake warehouse would make a good location for the Frateris De Veritas... Such things need consideration, and you're anything but hasty. In addition, it would be wise to train 40 of the veritas to take up arms for Tzeentch, though their zeal is admirable, their targeting abilities could use some work. Furthermore, you lack knowledge of the greater Hive, and could use a Vox Caster or two... And where would you be if not for the Truth? It is your duty to spread the Truth to as many as possible.

It takes a good three hours, but you finally manage to make one of the heretics talk, he says three words before passing on to become one with the Truth. "Motherfucker... Ammex Square...."

It's a dammed shame none of the others would talk, oh well, you'll have to make do.

[-3 Pipe Snake Prisoners]

You find the five most kindhearted cultists, and grant them 200 Thrones. Along with the task of opening a soup kitchen to spread the word and feed the poor. They are resolute in faith, and swear to do all they can.

You send Jorgin and three others to meet with the Yhetti Klan about the drugs and their status. When Jorgin and his men return, their backs are laden with bulging sacks, and he has good news. He kneels before you for a moment, before standing back up to speak. His face is filled with joy.

"My Lord, the Yhetti Klan have recognized the Truth! During the Holy Crusade, their leader was slain by the same Lascannon you hold, and their second in command is an ardent Tzeentchian! Inspired by his preaching, and by the memory of our resolve, the remainder of the gang have sworn themselves to the Lord of Change, and have devoted themselves to spreading his Truth!

My Lord, they took the drugs off of my hands, donated me a good 2,000 Throne Gelts, and said they'd give you half of the profit they made from selling them! A few of the Yhettis abandoned their bretheren when they saw the Truth, but they are of no consequence! They recognize your status as the blessed prophet, and are subservient to your orders!"

Initiate the three phase political infiltration by 1) seeing how our cultists are doing infiltrating the local government2) get some news on local political movements/ reasons for local unrest3) convert some high society types if we can, maybe pull some Patti Hearst style recruitment of some high born heirs

This is Excellent news regardless! A vox caster is even more neccessary now to keep in contact with our brethren of the truth!

>>860293That would be a good plan... Though I doubt they've even started to infiltrate the local government, nor have the skill just yet...

I say we send a blessed squad of the cultists to go to Ammex Square and see if there are any resources available there.

Thoth can continue to meditate, he will need a little more psionic power I feel before we can expand further.

As to the remaining two prisoners... Offer them a chance to join.. If not keep them under lock and key, if we manage to capture 5 more prisoners we can offer a living sacrifice to Tzeentch and put on a good show too.

Of course, you cannot depend on outside forces to safeguard the Faith. You tell Supreme Arbitrator Thesna to train 40 of the faithful to take up arms for the Lord of Change, a command he is all too happy to follow.

[6+2=8]((+2 due to Jorgin's military experience.))

The veritas train long and hard under Thesna, but they make little progress. At least, they're better than they were before, and now they know one end of a Lasgun from the other.

You give the remaining six cultists 1,500 Thrones and task them with spreading the Truth.

[7+4=11]((+4 due to the money invested.))

They return with 18 new devotees. Starved, and wretched, they look at you as if you were nothing less than a God. You quickly correct them, and they realize that you are but a prophet of a God. Still, several seem to doubt the Truth, as if they were only here for the food and shelter you provide.

You decide that it would be prudent to obtain a Vox Caster, and task a few of the cultists to find one. By the end of the week, they've come up with one. It's an ancient and antiquated Planetary Defense Force castoff, but it shall suit your needs. You spend four hours listening to it, and surmise several things.

> Most upper hive radio programming is worthless Imperial Propaganda.> Inquisitor Suth Felnas will be arriving to examine the PDF soon.> There is a dangerous Imperial cult of Hive-sanctioned Redemptionists, who have the express goal of eradicating all heresy, mutant scum, and xenos with blade and fire. Periodically, they come down into the Underdark and purge gangers and mutants in enormous lynch mobs.> There are many stations that are not used, though you have a faint suspicion that they may be monitored by the authorities.> One station is broadcasting strange murmuring nonstop. You think you might be able to trace the signal back to its location with a little effort.

[-500 Throne Gelts, +Antique Vox Caster]

[17]

In addition, the veritas drug runners have progressed tremendously. 9 are promoted to the level of senior drug runner, and both senior drug runners move on to gun running.

>1st >Task Supreme Arbitrator Thesna to trace the signal of the strange murmuring and perhaps find an exceptional person among the faith to aid him... Along with as many men as he thinks he needs. We can't do anything about the Redemptionists yet, and we shouldn't do anything to infiltrate the PDF, but this signal is an unknown and should be investigated at least... Silenced at most.

>2nd>Invest 500 thrones in some furniture/ decorations/ religious icons and task some of the unskilled but creative fanatics (7-14) to start building whatever comes to mind with some raw materials scattered throughout the under-hive. Whether this is from human bone, scrap metal, wood, or other things including the rare precious metal or gem... so long as it isn't rotten they should be urged to create and think on the truths chaos provides... Essentially bring a little more culture and purpose to those without, and maybe spice up the place for when big wigs start being drawn in...

>3rd> After relaying these orders, Thoth shall further his sorcerous Gift as Tzeentch commands, and order for himself to not be disturbed unless it is an absolute emergency (Redemptionists raid) in which case Tzeentch wills it for him to be awoken from meditation...

The Frateris De Veritas Holy Three-Fold Plan is to task Supreme Arbitrator Thesna and one cultist with tracking down the murmuring signal, investigating Ammex Square and the Pipe Snake's old territory, and then Thoth shall meditate on the Truth of Chaos?

The Truth has spoken to you, you are to further your Holy gift, and strengthen yourself in faith. A task you shall undertake with great relish, though for now, you must provide guidance to the enlightened.

You task Supreme Arbitrator Thesna with tracking down the murmuring radio signal, and grant him permission to enlist the aid of any one of the veritas. He spends a moment thinking, and half another moment packing his things. He and Brother Jacta leave immediately.

...

[20] [20]((First roll was to locate the signal, the second roll was to determine strength. Double twenties, truly, Tzeentch watches over you...))

You are Jorgin Thesna, Supreme Arbitrator of the Faith. After four days of strenuous, and ardent search, you and brother Jacta have narrowed the signal's source to one point: A series of old, decrepit tenement apartments almost fifty miles from the Frateris De Veritsas. The apartments are certainly not abandoned by any means. A wall of rockcrete eight feel tall, ringed with barbed wire and a makeshift spiked trench stretches around the apartments, and it is evident that the apartment walls are further reinforced with both rockcrete, and scrap metal plating. The only entryway is through a large, fortified drawbridge gate. You see that a dozen large, colorfully dressed men wielding Lasguns and menacing machetes patrol along the wall, and a quick scan with your binoculars confirms that there are more on the roof.

The strange murmuring is loudly broadcasted from one of the sturdier, more central apartments, and dozens of brightly dressed, and some completely nude men and women dance to the murmur in the parking lot, and in the streets. Vibrant, multicolored electrical lighting flickers from within the windows, and, apart from the revelers, there is no-one in sight. For the most part, the apartment windows are bare, though several of the windows on the higher floors are covered by tattered purple, light red, and pink drapes. Bright paint and colorful hand-made tapestries adorn the walls.

If you aren't mistaken, you'd say you and brother Jacta just stumbled upon a very powerful Slanneshi cult.

> What should you do?

...

((Note, I was going to update normally, but when

> https://www.random.org/

came up with double twenties, I knew that I had to make another POV shift for this. Don't worry, when this is done I'll update normally using the predetermined plans.))

>>860973They may not be followers of Tzeentch, but they are leagues better than the worshippers of the Corpse God as far as I'm concerned. Surely being a follower of Chaos in general brings one closer to the Truth than most? Or am I a heretic?

In any case though, I feel like we should be careful if we establish contact. They could be powerful allies but I think we should approach from a position of strength. We don't want to look weak in front of them

Surely, The Grand Conspirator would favor us including Slanneshi in his great game. Let us begin a plot to gain the trust of the area, let us lead the Redemptionists here to destroy these truth deniers. Jacta would be the best choice for this since we have the mark and would be found out instantly.

>>861122I like this plan, but i think that if we ambush the Redemptionists while they are attacking the Slaneshi cult, we would seem like heros who saved the day, and the Slaneshi cult would be weakened, thus more easily controlled.

>>861203But we must also stay true to our Lord and his ways. We lead the redemptionists here and then save the Slanneshi from the assault we orchestrated to become strong allies and weaken them to our level

The general consensus is that you want to meet the Slanneshi, meet their leader, exchange cult doctrine, and attempt to make a good impression in the goal of forming a mutually beneficial alliance, which you plan to later betray for the sake of gain?

A very Tzeentchian plan indeed. I'm sure blessed prophet Thoth would be very proud of you.

I agree with this plan as well, though again we should always have two backups in case things don't pull through...

For instance, what if the Slaaneshi cult decides to betray us first? We should have our militia ready in case the Redemptionists come down upon us first or the Slaaneshi get other ideas of attacking us directly; unlikely as that is..

Or what if they are completely inept and have tried to infiltrate the PDF with an inquisitor on the way? We will have to make sure we lay very... very low or risk the wrath of the Corpse Emperor's unholy inquisition... We've all heard the tales of their cruelty and needless destruction of vibrant worlds...

>>860937I also imagine Brother Jacta has become rather good at intercepting and locating vox-chatter, and I imagine he would make an excellent coordinator and code-master for our Cult... If not perhaps a tech expert of sorts.

He did after all help Supreme Arbitrator Thesna with finding the radio signal in less than a week through dense underhive interference and with uncanny precision... Perhaps a minor promotion for him as well is in order?

We will need to find more exceptional individuals as time progresses as well among the ranks...

Upon witnessing the Slanneshi's heathen dances, your heart is filled with an intense desire to purge their heresy, and raise your Lasgun to snipe the closest cultist. Before you can get your Lasgun level with your shoulder, Jacta grabs your arm, preventing your aiming.

"Supreme Arbitrator Thesna, consider carefully.""What is there to consider, Brother Jacta? These deviants prostrate themselves before a False Idol, and they must be purged!""I admire your devotion, Supreme Arbitrator, but, do these filthy heretics not venerate Chaos, even if not the Truth? And, following that, are they not far superior to the Corpse-Worshipers?""I, I suppose they are...""And do we not manipulate the Corpse-Worshipers without qualms, to further the will of our Lord?""That we do, that we do...""Are not all things in accordance to the Grand Conspirator's Holy Scheme?""They are, Brother Jacta.""Then, does it not stand to reason that they also, can be manipulated to further the Holy Truth?""I-I,""And that by cleverly manipulating them into unknowingly fulfilling our bidding, we prove our Lord to be far superior? And therefore, it is our duty to enlist their aid in our cause?""That, that is True, Brother Jacta... I acted hastily, and I thank you for staying my hand, if you had not, this opportunity to further the Truth would have been lost.""You are welcome, Supreme Arbitrator."

Now that you've realized that the Slanneshi filth are but another facet of Tzeentch's incomprehensible scheme, you are more than happy to meet them. The better you know them, the better you'll be able to control them, after all. You and Brother Jacta shoulder your Lasguns, and make your way to the Gate.

As you approach, the incessant murmuring seems to cut into your very core, and such is its noise, it seems to slightly shake your bones. After a full three minutes of walking through the eerily abandoned slums, you reach the walls. The trenches are deep, and between them, the spikes, and the barbed wire, you have no doubt anyone attempting to attack the fortress would suffer grievously.

You and Brother Jacta stand before the walls, and the drawbridge. You notice with a start that several red laser dots appear over your chests and head. Nevertheless, you know you have nothing to fear from these degeneratesfor you serve the Truth, and your demeanor is unchanged. A loud, raspy voice cries down from the wall,

"Oi! Ye there? Who are ye? An' why ya here?"

You respond in a stern, no nonsense tone.

"I am Jorgin Thesna, Supreme Arbitrator of the Frateris De Veritas, recent devotee of Tzeentch, and Second-in-command of the Blessed Prophet Thoth Talibah! I have come to meet your leader, and discuss how we might collaborate, and further the spread of Chaos!"

Within two seconds, the drawbridge has lowered across the trench, and you enter the Slanneshi bastion. The murmuring noise seems to resonate off of all surfaces, and if you were less strong willed, you'd go mad listening to it. As you enter, the drawbridge goes up behind you, locking you and Brother Jacta within.

A hulking, musclebound man wearing a garish, bright pink cloak climbs down the ladder bordering the drawbridge, and he looks toward you both. You notice that he's almost completely bald, and has a dopey grin, though you recognize that his posture is that of a seasoned killer, and you note the several blades and firearms, expertly sheathed and holstered all over him.

>>861364It is Good Brother Jacta has a cool head on his shoulders, He will make an excellent advisor and Nay-Smith for the cult as well as an Aid in Communications....

>>861443Take your time, it's interesting to see what another chaos cult has likely been through....

>>861418Based on the fortifications and the militerization of this Slaaneshi cult, they share allot more in common with us than the typical abandonement to sensation most cults of the dark goddess have....

This will make it easier to 'sympathize' with them... Along with making trade routes more viable... After all they will appreciate a steady stream of drugs from a reliable source, maybe even a few of our cheaper weaponry from our stockpile, I heard they like to try things with gunpowder....

>>861468Still with the vox it's not like there hidden they will be found sooner rather then later and we don't want some drugged up slave of pleasure telling the inquisitors where we live or that we even exsist

At that, Urhua takes off at a rapid, purposeful gait, almost comically serious in his determined expression. He sways his hands side to side as he marches, and his feet plod onto the ground with each step. While he rambles on about inane subjects, you take the time to examine the Slanneshi. They are garbed in bright, vibrant yellows, crimsons, and purples, and they seem to lack all restraint, swaying their bodies madly in tune with the murmurs, and their eyes shamelessly admire the figure of their fellow revelers. You note with revulsion that the bodies of many are covered with useless tiny horns, thin and worthless tails, and strangely colored skin. These, these are not of the Truth, they do nothing to further the plan of Tzeentch, these mutations, are, are, cosmetic, and serve no purpose! Disgusting...

They seem to be transfixed in some sort of trance, openly shouting and screaming mad gibberish, and they are extremely energetic, not flagging in their celebrations for an instant. Smiling, laughing, and gleefully lifting up ecstatic, howling prayers to their deity, they seem insane to you. In all of your days, you've never seen a group of people so enraptured with joy. The underhive is a dark and dismal place, but this place, it is so bright, and colorful, you feel inspired to dance... SHIT, no no no no no no NO! You are NOT going to let some cheap and heretical carnal pleasures distract from the purity of your purpose!

As you see a naked gyrating woman that wouldn't be out of place on the cover of a swimwear magazine, you pause to stare for a moment. OK, maybe just a little... NOPE, NOT HAPPENING! The murmuring, it's getting to you, you, you can't even think! It's insane, and pointless, the, the, AAAGH! You can't even describe it, the, the....

A hand grabs your shoulder, "Supreme Arbitrator, we've arrived." You turn and look into the eyes of your fellow verita. Brother Jacta's face is haggard, pulled almost into a grimace, and his eyes almost bulge out of his head. You remember you'd heard him muttering the Creed of Truth to himself over and over again, and you see a bold, steely resolve in his eyes. This, this... place, it tempts you, but your Faith in the Truth will not be shaken. You nod to your Brother, and look ahead.

The makeshift palace towers above you. Its sides are covered with obscenely colorful paint splotches and murals of hedonistic scenes. It is reinforced by hundreds of scrap metal sheets and tons of rockcrete built up around its base. Dozens of curtains and tapestries adorn its sides, and it has its own fortified wall and spiked trench surrounding it. It must be at least thirty stories tall, and it is by far, the most imposing challenge to your faith you've ever witnessed. The vile Slanneshi guardsmen unlocks and opens the reinforced metal door, and you gaze into a pallor of smoke.

As you pass through the door, you catch a whiff of the smoke, and feel a little bit lightheaded, maybe even giddy. There must be something in the air, some kind of drug... Tzeentch strengthen you. He is the Truth, the Truth is him. You will not be led astray, so you swear upon your soul.

Brother Jacta enters the poorly lit building, and grunts, shaking his head. Behind him, Urhua walks in, the stupid grin on his face growing even wider. He closes the metal door, and spends another three minutes bolting and sliding all of the locks into place. You want to kill him, so, so badly. To just take your Lasgun, and END his heresy for once and for all. To hear the sound of his head bursting into a cloud of gore, to see his corpse thump on the floor, to inhale the scent of his sweet, sweet demise... Aw fuck, fuck, fuck no! This place is twisting your own zealotry against you!

You turn away from the wretched deviant, and gaze forward. There are nearly a dozen hallways stretching out in all directions, oil lamps and small metal globes with candles in them hang from the ceiling. The murmur seems no louder in hear, but the very air itself seems to, pulse with its malign influence.

Urhua looks at you and nods with a gape-toothed grin. "Purty nice, ain't it?" You stare ahead, not giving this cretin the dignity of a response. "Suit yerself, Jorgie." He walks, almost frolicking, into one of the hallways. Brother Jacta openly recites the Creed of Truth over and over again, while you attempt to block out the incessant noise of the murmur. The Slanneshi cultist leads you and Brother Jacta on a path through dozens of twisting, maze-like labyrinthine corridors. Occasionally, you pass by vivid strobe lights, small braziers burning some kind of, something, and locked doors, with the sounds of moaning on the other side. The architecture of this place is completely nonsensical, and it, it gets to you. You can't remember where you came from, or, even who you are... It's almost as if... NO! NO NO NO! YOU ARE A SERVANT OF THE TRUTH! AND YOU WILL NOT BE BROKEN!

Brother Jacta grabs you by the shoulder and whispers into your ear, stammering in desperation, "S-stay s-strong, J-Ju,-Jorgie, s-stay s-strong." You nod, thoughtlessly, and try to empty your mind of all temptation. There is only Truth, all else is Falsehood. What you are experiencing, is no more than a sick, sick and twisted illusion. All of a sudden Urhua stops, and turns around. There's another metal door, and the wretch puts a key into it, smiling his disgusting smile.

"Welp, 'ere it is! Lord Crastus's Throne Room, as promised! See ya 'round gents!" He winks, and turns to walk away. You place your hand on the metal door, and it slides open, almost of its own volition. You grit your teeth and enter the Throne Room.

As you pass through the door, you catch a whiff of the smoke, and feel a little bit lightheaded, maybe even giddy. There must be something in the air, some kind of drug... Tzeentch strengthen you. He is the Truth, the Truth is him. You will not be led astray, so you swear upon your soul.

Brother Jacta enters the poorly lit building, and grunts, shaking his head. Behind him, Urhua walks in, the stupid grin on his face growing even wider. He closes the metal door, and spends another three minutes bolting and sliding all of the locks into place. You want to kill him, so, so badly. To just take your Lasgun, and END his heresy for once and for all. To hear the sound of his head bursting into a cloud of gore, to see his corpse thump on the floor, to inhale the scent of his sweet, sweet demise... Aw fuck, fuck, fuck no! This place is twisting your own zealotry against you!

You turn away from the wretched deviant, and gaze forward. There are nearly a dozen hallways stretching out in all directions, oil lamps and small metal globes with candles in them hang from the ceiling. The murmur seems no louder in hear, but the very air itself seems to, pulse with its malign influence.

Urhua looks at you and nods with a gape-toothed grin. "Purty nice, ain't it?" You stare ahead, not giving this cretin the dignity of a response. "Suit yerself, Jorgie." He walks, almost frolicking, into one of the hallways. Brother Jacta openly recites the Creed of Truth over and over again, while you attempt to block out the incessant noise of the murmur. The Slanneshi cultist leads you and Brother Jacta on a path through dozens of twisting, maze-like labyrinthine corridors. Occasionally, you pass by vivid strobe lights, small braziers burning some kind of, something, and locked doors, with the sounds of moaning on the other side. The architecture of this place is completely nonsensical, and it, it gets to you. You can't remember where you came from, or, even who you are... It's almost as if... NO! NO NO NO! YOU ARE A SERVANT OF THE TRUTH! AND YOU WILL NOT BE BROKEN!

Brother Jacta grabs you by the shoulder and whispers into your ear, stammering in desperation, "S-stay s-strong, B-Brother, J-Ju,-Jorgie, s-stay s-strong." You nod, thoughtlessly, and try to empty your mind of all temptation. There is only Truth, all else is Falsehood. What you are experiencing, is no more than a sick, sick and twisted illusion. All of a sudden Urhua stops, and turns around. There's another metal door, and the wretch puts a key into it, smiling his disgusting smile.

"Welp, 'ere it is! Lord Crastus's Throne Room, as promised! See ya 'round gents!" He winks, and turns to walk away. You place your hand on the metal door, and it slides open, almost of its own volition. You grit your teeth and enter the Throne Room.

You both step through the door, and Brother Jacta closes it behind you. The smoke is, thicker here, and you gaze around the room. It is extremely opulent, to say the least. Luxurious, plush, and expensive sofas, cushions, and rugs are placed throughout the room haphazardly. Gold, silver, and even a few diamonds are embossed and embedded into nearly every hard surface. Several lit braziers are placed in strategic locations, giving the room a faint light. Many candles illuminate the darkness, and a few glowing lava lamps add to the ambient effect.

As you walk forward, you see dozens of glass wine bottles, and several barrels scattered about the room, laying on tables, furniture, or even the floor in a few cases. A feminine voice moans, and you see perhaps a dozen, smiling, scantily clad, beautiful women lying invitingly, sprawled out across the cushions. You stare without meaning to, and are just about to take a step towards them when a booming, joyous voice echoes across the room.

A slap from Brother Jacta snaps you out of it, and you gaze upon the Throne. It is enormous, sturdy, impeccably crafted and made of black wood and silver, with gold trimming. On the Throne sits Lord Crastus himself. Almost seven feet tall, with dark blue skin, and thin eye slits filled with a rainbow of fractal color patterns. His hands menace with long, smooth, and sharp claws, a dozen undulating, long, black tendrils are attached to his body. He wears a beautifully stitched yellow robe with crimson trimming. His tendrils idly play with a squirming, moaning brunette sprawled across his lap, and next to his Throne, a void-black long-sword in a blood red sheath rests. His face bears a welcoming, friendly grin, and despite his mutations, you could say without a doubt that he is the most handsome man you've ever seen, not in a gay way, of course.

"WELL, DON'T JUST STAND THERE GAWKING! SAY SOMETHING! I DON'T GET VISITORS OFTEN!"

>>862151Offer drugs and see if we can arrange a meeting between cult leaders. We are both of Chaos after all even if we serve different Gods(especially Gods who aren't direct enemies and are the nearest things to allies we can expect outside undivided chaos).

Tell Lord Crastus the Veritas wish to start selling drugs to them, as it is obvious from their luxuries that they can afford them.

2. Arrange a meeting between the cult leaders, The holy prophet should speak himself, state that we are merely his heralds and carry the blessing of Chaos into the realm of the corpse emperor.

3. Brother Jacta and Jorgin Thesna should make note of everything on their way in, and eventually on their way out such as weakpoints in the fortification, the overall layout of the complex and overall cult strength. Commit it to memory as the prophet Thoth will most likely find it very useful.

This place has addled your minds brethren... Space marines are Sterile for one, The one true force of Chaos is Tzeentch, not Slaanesh, and to imply the prophet himself would fornicate and breed with such a creature is as preposterous... As it is heretical...Purge it from your minds brothers.

>>862389And Tzeentch doesn't like wasting useful pawns. If we can break this cultists then we can use them in our game to conquer this planet. And if we have to go through their own games to break them so be it.

For an instant, you are caught in Lord Crastus's gaze, and as you peer into his myriad colors, you ponder many possibilities. Is Thoth Talibah not a worthy ruler? And is a worthy ruler not entitled to his pleasures? And who worthier to satisfy those pleasures than a Dark Lord of pleasure? Maybe you could beseech Slannesh to transform Lord Crastus into a woman, a beautiful, blue woman, and then Lord Crastus and Thoth Talibah could have children, beautiful, blue children...

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK FUCK'S FUCKING FUCK THIS SHIT FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCKING NO NO NO FUCK FUCK, AH HOW COULD YOU EVEN FUCKING THINK THAT OH FUCK TZEENTCH WHY WHY WHY!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!

You close your eyes and mentally produce an ardent prayer asking your Lord for forgiveness, and the strength to resist such, *UNSPEAKABLE* thoughts...

A moment later, you've properly composed yourself, and look at Lord Crastus again, only this time you are sure not to stare into his eyes, instead you focus on his forehead. Oh, it's quite the regal forehead, got marvelous, flowing locks of pitch black, curled hair, and slight, black horns that curve upwards ever so slightly, and, and. Oh, oh no no no, this place is turning you into a deviant! You resolve to simply not stare at Lord Crastus at all, and instead focus on the woman being penetrated in his lap.

((Roll to maintain composure.))[17+2=19] VS [8+4=12]((+2 due to Jorgin Thesna's mighty willpower. Temptation gets a +4 due to circumstances.))

You feel a shroud of calm come over you, and all feelings of lust and temptation are swept away, replaced by a firm devotion and a steely will. You feel totally at ease, truly, Tzeentch is with you today.

"Lord Crastus. We come in the name of the blessed prophet of Tzeentch Thoth Talibah, of the Frateris De Veritas. We wish to reach an agreement between our sects, to serve the Truth of Chaos."

"OH GOODY GOODY GOODY! I'D STARTED TO THINK I AND THE SENSULAE ALDUTERI WERE THE ONLY DEVOTEES OF CHAOS ON THIS WARP DAMNED ROCK! WELL, TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELVES!"

You nod, and perfectly recount the life history and conversion of Thoth Talibah, the Creed of Truth, your own life history and conversion, the Frateris De Veritas philosophy, and theology, and of the Frateris De Verita's brief history. You're fairly sure you hadn't memorized a good third of that, but it all comes out, and eloquently as well. Curiosity gets the better of Lord Crastus, and he gives you a command,

During the three hours you spend reciting, Lord Crastus watches, listening intently, though his tendrils unabashedly probe deeper and deeper into each and every orifice in the brunette's body. After an hour and a half, the Slanneshi devotee goes completely limp, exhausted physically and mentally by the pure bliss, though the tendrils continue touching her. After two and a half hours, the tendrils seem to grow bored with their game, and simply retract from the girl. Almost comatose with fatigue, she moans softly, and leans her naked body against Lord Crastus, he then begins to absentmindedly fondle her bare chest, paying her no more attention than to the furniture throughout the entire ordeal.

When you finish your speech, you feel confident, as if you were, stronger somehow. All praise be to Tzeentch!

+3 Favor

You speak, "Now, Lord Crastus, will you recompensate us with tales of your own?"

His booming voice replies, "WHY, OF COURSE, OF COURSE!" and seems to become softer, as if reverent.

"For many years I was no more than another noble-born son of a minor noble house in the Spires. As I grew, I began to feel, urges, as all young men do, and I began to, experiment some. Nothing, homosexual, just... how you say, unorthodox. Nothing to bad, mind you, just frequenting the rare high class brothel, flirting with the maids, that sort of thing.

After a few years, it all stopped feeling so, so rich, and I lost the joy I once gained from my activities. I began to mindlessly seek pleasure, as most noble-born sons of minor noble houses in the Spires do at some point, only, I was a little extreme. The odd drinking binge, and line of stardust just didn't cut it anymore. I began to obsess over pleasure, and started to wallow in excess.

Drinking a gallon of crystal wine in one sitting, kidnapping and raping lower hive girls almost weekly, visiting smoke dens almost daily, and so on. I started to lose myself in ecstasy. I fell behind socially, and ceased caring about the thoughts of others, or my own education, for that matter. It was only a matter of time before it happened. my activities began to make my family pariahs in the community, and soon, my family began to despise me for my hedonistic ways.

Finally, they just told me to leave. They allowed me to pack up as much as I could carry, and leave to the lower levels. I protested, but they were firm, and I was forced away. I was a crafty bastard, though, and I managed to survive, but slowly, and steadily I was driven mad by the absence of the joys I once cherished. I began to daydream of pleasure, and slowly, I came to hate my family, and the Emperor who abandoned me to starve and freeze in the streets."

"Eventually, I found myself in the underdark, and was about to take my own life. It was then that the Dark Prince Of Chaos spoke to me, in my dreams. He told me that he understood, and showed me visions of the infinite joys I could gain if I only served him, and spread pleasure as much as possible. I agreed and swore eternal devotion to Slannesh, and I gathered a band of fellow hedonists around myself.

We started dealing drugs, and became involved with prostitution. We killed whoever got in our way, and our organization grew exponentially. Every week, a dozen more would swear themselves to the Dark Prince, and I began to realize that it was my destiny to overthrow the Hive Imperium, and become a Daemonic Prince, so that I might venerate Slannesh for all of eternity, and spread his pleasures to all corners of the galaxy.

I decided that we were no longer a gang, we were a religion, and at that point, Slannesh had gifted me enough that there could be no doubt. I came up with a name for our cult, the Sensulae Adulteri. That means Sensuous Bastards in High Gothic, mind you. Over time, the Sensulae Adulteri grew in power and influence, and I began to seed subcults across all of Zerht 3. We've spread enough that I've lost track, there might be as many as ten or twenty thousand of us now, many in the highest echelons of society, small manufactorum overseers and the noble patriarchs of minor houses have all knelt before me. Sensulae Adulteri chemists make the best drugs, Sensulae Adulteri escorts make the best sex, and Sensulae Adulteri assassins make the least noise.

We've ingratiated ourselves into the higher levels of illicit commerce, and as you can see, we have prospered. In another decade or so, we'll be powerful enough to get involved with politics, and I'll rule this sector from the shadows. This isn't our main base, this is just a sort of vacation home, I suppose. It's a nice, abandoned area of the underdark with no one to bother us as we enjoy ourselves. Of course, I had to pay an arm and a leg to get the gang leaders to enforce a border, and then another arm and a leg to kill and replace them with Sensulae plants. We've spread spies through most of the black market rings, and I've never heard of you. The Frateris De Veritas are newly formed, are they not? Perhaps we can come to a mutually agreement. What did you have in mind?"

>>862841>We want to propose a non agressive agreement, we're both Chaos our goal should be getting rid of the Corpse God before anything elseIf even half of what he's saying is true we have no way to match him. Better to just sharpen our blades while we wait, maybe figure a way to get him to preemptively try and take over the planet so he can get himself and all his men killed while weakening the guard

>>862897That would put them on high alert and it would be likely they will find us when the inquisition searchs the underhive for remenents, or worse, they perform exterminatus on the world if he actually does well.

>>862841they are far too strong to take any direct action against, and even indirect action against them could have grave consequences. Hell, even being around them is corrupting. I say we just stay away from them for now until we're powerful enough to deal/work alongside with them.

>>862915>>862897>>862941There only 10s of thousands strong and they are far easier to find then we are because there worship is far more obvious. I say we do some deals with them that aid us while we get the redemtionists to kill them all and start a hunt for slannesh.vout soup kitchen won't be suspicious we just need to stop recruiting while they hunt this is very doable. We need to cripple them before they force us to become subservient.

>>862841They may have plenty of numbers and firepower at their disposal, but Thoth is a mighty Champion of Tzeentch and a Chaos Space Marine. As followers of Tzeentch, we will obtain powers and abilities that will be unique to us.

Given time, the Frateris De Veritas can become powerful allies to the Sensuous Adulteri and together we can drive the Corpse God Worshippers from this world! So let us work together and help one another to grow stronger!

>>862841I hate this guy. He is way bigger than us but 20k on a hive world is nothing. Khorne can get this many from a hive world riot.>acquire a contract for their 'best' drugs that will allow us to keep an eye on his "Vacation home" and get us rich.>We're Veritas I think we need to start forging an elite core soon. Numbers will get us lynched with this guy.

Yeah keep things friendly, but don't give away anything important. Maybe donate some of our drugs as a measure of goodwill, but I don't think a full alliance is in our interests here considering the size.

Also if we start running SLanesshi drugs is there arisk that pleasure cultists will start appearing where we're building up? don't want any attention drawn to us and then we'll have to compete with them for recruits too.

I think we should focus on the other gangs, maybe the Yhetti have some gangs they're on speaking terms with that we could meet with and show the Truth to.

As far as you know, their drugs do not directly spread Slannesh, but they do sow fertile ground for his converts. For example, a drug addict is more likely to turn to Slannesh than a suburban soccer mom, but there's no guarantee he'll convert. It's the same with Papa Nurgle's diseases, diseased people are more likely to convert, but there's still no guarantee they'll forsake the Emperor over it. Of course, there's always a slim chance the drugs are cursed, but you don't know whether or not that's even possible.

Twenty thousand... twenty thousand... twenty thousand... When Lord Crastus spits out those vile words, your heart is stricken with fear, and begin to worry. You're not strong enough to fight them, to even consort with them is dangerous, they're too much for the Frateris De Veritas to even begin to oppose...

But then again, isn't the Imperial Cult as well?

You stare at the feet of his Throne as he drones on, and you feel a sense of boldness. You are far superior to this subsapient wretch, he is no more than a slave to his desires, and before the Infinite Truth, everything the Sensulae Adulteri can muster is no more than the smallest pebble before the Infinite Tsunami of Truth. You know your path, and no force in this Reality can sway your devotion. The veritas shall use these Slanneshi deviants to further the Holy will of Tzeentch, and when their usefulness has passed, you will destroy them.

You look up, making eye contact with Lord Crastus as he finishes his speech. Staring into the swirling colors, you feel as if you should be in a trance, or controlled, at the very least tempted, but you feel nothing but Faith. You speak,

"Chaos is truly infinite, and comes in many forms. Perhaps our forces can align, and hasten the demise of the corpse lord. Together, we are stronger, and are our Gods not often allied as well?"

[10+2+2=14]((+2 due to Jorgin's willpower, +2 due to the blessings of Tzeentch.))

The debauched heretic nods, "That seems quite reasonable, then again, you're a Tzeentchian, and I should expect that from you. Should you require our aid, or wish to partake in our pleasures, simply ask, and you shall have it. I would like to meet your, blessed, prophet Thoth. Could that be arranged?"

"Certainly. I shall bring the news to him, and in a month's time, we'll contact you, and arrange a meeting between leaders."

"Excellent! Excellent. Hmm, before you go, take 20 pounds of our finest product, as a, token, of respect for your rationality."

"I thank you, Lord Crastus. May the Truth illuminate your path."

"May Chaos guide you, friend."

You turn and leave, Brother Jacta seems to be in a sort of daze, he mutters the Creed of Truth under his breath over and over again, and his body seems taut in a sort of subdued rage and denial at everything around him. You, on the other hand, feel no desires of any sort, and feel completely at ease. Such is the power of Tzeentch.

While you exit the bastion, you take note of its fortifications, and of the cultists themselves. The cult as a whole seems to lack discipline and professional training, though their fanatical zeal and obscene masochism could pose quite a problem. A few, perhaps thirty, are skilled and obviously well-trained, though no less fanatical than their brethren. You'd say there's nearly three hundred Slanneshi cultists here, a good third of them mutated by Slannesh.

Their fortifications are very sturdy, and you note that several of the cult enforcers wield mini-flamers, you see at least six rocket propelled grenade launchers, and you spot at least three Lascannons on the roof of the palace. There are perhaps fifteen cleverly cultists wielding sniper rifles, and you'd think it would be extremely difficult to root them out in a firefight. The cult enforcers are also wielding Lasguns, and a handful carry jury-rigged Plasma Guns. As for the rest of the cult, they have knives, blades, and pistols sheathed and holstered on their bodies. Little over a third have Assault Rifles and Shotguns, and a few of the more heavily mutated have Lasguns as well.

When you're out of sight of the fortifications, all of your confidence leaves you, and you fall to your knees, spewing bile into a gutter. You feel shattered inside, as if someone took a hammer to your very soul, and you suppose, someone did. Brother Jacta looks no different, and he collapses to stare at the sidewalk, murmuring the Creed of Truth to himself. You can still hear that infernal murmuring, even from here. You shakily stand to your feet, and grab Brother Jacta's arm, "Come, Brother Jacta. We must return and tell the blessed prophet of what we've seen."

You are Thoth Talibah, blessed prophet of the Truth. Recently, you've sent Jorgin Thesna and Brother Jacta to trace a strange murmuring radio signal, and if all goes well, they should return sometime next week. You have Faith that they will, for it is the will of Tzeentch.

You're somewhat curious at what the deceased heretic might've meant when he mentioned Ammex Square. You decide to send Brother Strages, and five of the cult elite to investigate.

[15]

Six hours later, Brother Strages relays what he's learned to you. He did some asking around, about Ammex Square, and a homeless man sleeping in a dumpster told him about it. Apparently, Ammex Square isn't an orderly square, rather, it's a series of ancient, abandoned manufactorums the size of a city block that were built in a sort of grid-like fashion, forming a rough square. In between the manufactorums, the enormous alleyways are crisscrossed with makeshift bridges, and tunnels go underneath, connecting the ruins.

Supposedly, the manufactorums used to produce firearms and chemicals, though the factories are inert and dysfunctional, with enough mechanical know-how and the right parts, perhaps their functionality could be restored. Several gangs have used Ammex Square as a base over the years, and it is a hotly contested area, its walls nearly impregnable to anything short of a Lascannon. Recently, the Pipe Snakes have been using it as a base, with a few other, minor gangs, and independent drug dealers and smugglers. Ever since their leader was slain, the Pipe Snakes have broken apart into several, feuding minor gangs, and likely wouldn't be able to hold an organized defense, but they'd likely kill a great many attackers before perishing. After hearing this, Brother Strages and the others came back to inform you.

When your flock has been provided with guidance, you retire to your private chambers, and prepare to meditate. You look around your quarters, ten feet by ten feet, they are humble indeed. It was once a sewage maintenance closet, where plumbers stored their supplies. It is now bare, save a for a small, carpet mat, and a faintly burning candle in the corner. At first, you couldn't fit within it, but several of your more dedicated followers chipped away at it without your knowledge, expanding the room to accommodate your enormous form, and smoothing over the jagged rock to provide increased comfort for any sitting on it.

All of this was done without your knowledge, and only three days after you unlocked the Psychic Duel, you received an anonymous note, a small piece of aged parchment with a crudely drawn Mark of Tzeentch sketched on its surface. You questioned the veritas, but none were willing to take the credit, or thanks for their work. You admire it, though it isn't perfect, the stone was carved without professional tools. Its would-be mason crafters made do with sharpened pieces of scrap metal, and decade old, rusted hammers. You find it beautiful, a stark representation of devotion at its finest, and, observing its chipped, somewhat smooth walls, you reflect.

As the hives of Zerht 3 moved upward, they emptied and abandoned countless chambers just like these. Under the Imperium, when things exhaust their usefulness, and become easier to replace than to repair, they are cast aside and forgotten. Not only inanimate objects, but people as well. They are cast aside, and left to rot in the Underdark. Men, women, and children, like the ones who carved this chamber, are left to starve, to wallow in filth and rot, an eternity away from the sun's warm light. They lift up their praises to a false God, a mere man who perished centuries ago, and expect him to be able to reach out, and sweep away all of their hurt, and all of their pain with a wave of his hand. And when he, this corpse, does not help them, the people tell themselves that it is because they were not pure enough, not holy enough, not, righteous enough to warrant the aid of a putrid, rancid, idolatrous corpse!

These people are told that their suffering, that their misery, is all a necessary evil. That, kneeling before a decaying sack of rotten meat is the natural state of things, and when one realizes the Truth, and decides that they shall decide their own fate, they are deemed blasphemers, and are slain for their independence. Many before have tried to overthrow the corpse's vile hegemony, yet none were able. Horus attempted to slay the Emperor, yet he himself was slain, and the masses were inspired to worship their ruler with unspeakable fervor. Abbaddon has attempted to end what Horus began thirteen times, yet each time, he was driven back, and defeated before he could set foot on "Holy" Terra.

Many have tried, and all have failed, but you, you shall prevail, for you have been shown the Truth. Tzeentch, the Pure, has taught you His ways, He has anointed you as the blessed prophet of His Truth, and He is all powerful in His wisdom and knowledge. He has chosen you to be His Champion. You shall carry the banner of the Frateris De Veritas throughout the Heavens, and you shall destroy the corpse god on his gilded Throne. All will be equal before his sight, and advancement shall be based on merit alone. The degenerate, heretical fools who dare pledge themselves to a pagan idol, shall be cleansed in Tzeentch's Holy Flame. All those who choose to seek the Truth, shall find it. And you, you, Thoth Talibah, shall be the ruler of this new Empire. You shall do better than the false corpse god. Under your rule, all of Reality's Falsehood shall be ripped away, and all, shall know the Truth of Tzeentch. This you swear to do, upon your Soul, your Honor, and above all, in Tzeentch's name. If you are slain, so be it, for it is the will of Tzeentch, and it is the Truth!

With that said, you extinguish your candle, and sit cross legged, eyes closed, probing the Warp with your inner eye. Its tumultuous, shifting form seems to be tantalizingly within reach, yet each and every time you grasp it, it slips between your fingers. You spend days, without sleeping, drinking, or eating, uttering an unending litany of righteous prayers to Tzeentch as you prostrate your all before the Holy Truth. Finally, after five days of meditation, you manage to hold onto the faintest smidgen of its shifting chaotic energy, and for the briefest of instants, you touch the Truth. You see infinite possibilities in all directions, past, present, and future, all threading together into an infinitely complex, yet simple, abstract tapestry. You glimpse into the faintest image of a scheme of untold complexity, the smallest facet of which you could study for eons without grasping the whole Truth. You see all at once, from the smallest atom, to the largest universe, knowing the history and future of each and every particle. And realize for the briefest of instants, the Plan of Tzeentch. And then, as quickly as it came, you are left alone, blinded in your mortal form, you weep at the beauty of what you've witnessed, and fall to your knees solemnly and firmly uttering the highest praise to the Lord of Change.

You feel that you have not yet uncovered how you fit into the next part of Tzeentch's plan, though you feel a burning thirst to discover more. Yet, the few Enlightened ones in this idolatrous, faithless world require your guidance, and you stand, and open the door.

During your meditations, twenty-five of the lost and deceived have heard news of the Truth, and have come become one with the Frateris De Veritas. Fifteen have already given themselves over to Tzeentch, mind, body, and soul.

[+15 Unskilled Tzeentch Fanatics, +10 Doubtful Cultists]

[18]

In addition, almost all of those who once doubted have realized the Truth, and have sworn to eternally follow the Lord of Change.

[-7 Doubtful Cultists, +7 Unskilled Tzeentch Fanatics]

[13]

A handful of the veritas drug runners have increased in experience, and one of the senior drug runners has went on to become a gun runner.

While you were meditating, several of the more zealous new converts have taken it upon themselves to spread the word. Loudly, in the street corners, marketplaces, and Emperor's shrines, at the tops of their lungs. A few of those listening happened to have rope close at hand, and one of those listening was astute enough to forcibly ask the cultists the location of the Frateris De Veritas sanctum. Your followers were not quite able to resist the temptation to tell them the exact location of your base, loudly, while asking to be granted clemency. Their humble entreaty was denied, rather... messily, in fact.

[-5 Unskilled Tzeentch Fanatics][+10 Cult Reputation]

[17]

A few preachers have noticed a few theological discrepancies between your separate faiths, and an enormous mob of roughly 70, *intensely* curious Imperial Zealots have assembled outside of your home, and would like to discuss them with you personally.

> How do you respond?

> tl;dr: Five of your newest converts decided to evangelize in the streets, a few fanatical corpse-worshipers heard their sermons. An angry mob tortured information out of them, and lynched the converts. They're preparing to invade the not-so-hidden sewer lair right now.

Can we make a magical barrier that deflects bullets? If so, tell their leader that if their corpse God is the truth, surely he should be able to defeat us. Deflect bullet, use our mind powers to drop him to his knees, perhaps kill him. Everyone else is like "wow oh jeez, I'm with #Tzeentch now"

Well that was an unlucky roll, though it obviously must be part of Tzeentch's plan... We are to be tested for our worthiness..

The three fold plan:Plan 1>We don't have too much time to plan, and an angry mob is hard to reason with, though perhaps We can make them rather confused... We do have 38 fine dresses... Perhaps one of the better and gentler speakers among our number can walk 'into them' whilst singing prayers and songs, followed by 37 others in a rising crescendo to the corpse emperor... We do know the lyrics taught to us from a young age, and though it might burn our hearts.... It will confuse and perhaps calm the mob for further manipulation... They were looking for fanatical tzeentchians after all, and we could always claim that 'They lied to try and get you to kill us all in anger brothers and sisters of the Imperial cult"

Plan 2

>We do not have a second base of operations so retreat is not an option, yet neither is revealing Thoth just yet... Instead have every member of the militia ( Even the poorly trained ones) divide into squads of seven, with a elite member of the militia leading each squad... (This should make 6 squads of 7, with the last squad taking two unskilled ones and simply arming them with bladed weapons.Should the first plan fail, they might buy us enough time to assemble, equip weapons and set up defensive positions... We'll also know who is friend and who is foe based on the fine clothes and of course a little facial recognition.. then open fire with Las guns/flamers/slugs onto the rest of the crowd if they try to enter the cult's sewer base...

>3rd plan, if all else fails, and we are driven back into the main/ most damning chamber Thoth should enter the fray, the mob will be drawn in far enough that even if we're down to half strength... He'll be more than enough to ensure there are no survivors of that mob...

>>865391>>865398This is not a good plan... And we don't even have those powers yet... Let alone the mob before us has multiple 'leaders' from multiple preachers...

Are we cornered? If we have a way out, we should probably have our people start carting out all of our stuff and make a move on Ammex square.

Have one of our finer spoken men buy time speaking with the mob, have a squad covering him. Squad of men should be able to hold a sewer entrance, especially if they have the flamers.

In either case, our hidden lair is exposed and is more or less useless for the time being. We should attempt to subvert some of the feuding gangs in Ammex square and any that the Yhettis have good terms with.

>>865338Three fold planPlan 1: send a runner to the klan, telling them Zealots are attack our sewer layer and asking them to come attack them from the rearPlan 2: Our seven elites lead the grand total of 49 men to take up defensive points throughout the sewer leading the zealots deeper in and bleeding them every step of the way, while avoiding a drawn out fight by using our better sewer pathway knowledgePlan 3: once the zealots are drawn all the way into the sewer and the klan has arrived, have Toth and his seven most devout displaces take them head on, and baptizes them in the flames of the lord. As all their eyes are drawn to such power have the rest of our allies rush them from all sides.